


Always On

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Cell Phones, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: Seb has this bad habit of turning his phone off. Bad for everybody else, that is; for him, some days, it’s the only thing that keeps him from cracking.





	Always On

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: One character worrying anxiously about another.

Seb has this bad habit of turning his phone off. Bad for everybody else, that is; for him, some days, it’s the only thing that keeps him from cracking.

Connection is a good thing, he gets that, but he’s read the science, too: the anxiety that social media causes, the depression that comes of being always on, always available, always at someone else’s command–the sense of isolation born of the awareness that you’re never alone.

At first, he tried half-assed measures like deleting certain apps–-sorry Mom, Facebook didn’t make the cut–-or setting aside specific times each day to check his email, his texts, his Instagram. He tried giving his phone to his assistant and making him swear that he’d only bring it to Seb’s attention if it was a dire emergency. Turns out he and Jeff don’t define “dire” in quite the same way; a bitchy comment on an Instagram post, Jeff, does not apply.

He’s considered dropping the thing in an airport toilet. Or accidentally smashing it between elevator doors. Or stealing Mackie’s pocket knife and prying open the back, fishing out the battery, and smashing the tempered glass with his fist. Wouldn’t production love that, the Winter Soldier coming to set with his knuckles already bleeding. Save time and money, that.

He hates the damn thing, is what it comes down to. Especially when it doesn’t ring.

He spends whole days with an ear cocked towards it, waiting for a call, a text, a notification that never comes. Well, they do, but not nearly often enough.

Chris is busy, he gets that; moving on and beyond Steve Rogers is such a good thing for him. And getting out from beneath the weight of the shield, of Marvel’s expectations, is an even better one. Seb’s happy for him. And a little envious of his relief, that palpable sense of whew now permanently etched on Chris’ face. It’s a good look for him.

But making one of these monsters without Evans around is–-not the same. Not at all. And not to go all Bucky Barnes, but It’s like losing an arm, he’ll say on set with a chuckle. Or the best part of himself, he’ll tell himself in the mirror when he stares himself down at night, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and cheeks still hot from the shower, one ear outstretched towards his phone.

It doesn’t ring. It never does. Not nearly often enough.

So he turns it off.

There’s no great epiphany, no moment of sudden crystalline clarity. Just the flick of a switch on the way to work, the whole world around them still asleep.

And the funny thing is, nobody on set seems to notice. He doesn’t play Scrabble with Scarlett like Mackie does; he’s not obsessed with Neko Atsume, either. He’s not on the gleefully inappropriate group chat comprised mainly of trash-talking (Scarlett), profane anti-Trump rants (Ruffalo), and deeply weird cat videos (Hemsworth).


End file.
